It’s one of those days, again. To be fair I’ve not had too many of them recently, but it’s enough to make me sad.

And that’s the real problem right there. It’s not one of those days, it’s me, I’m feeling glum and low and sad. So everything seems and feels wrong. The little doubts that niggled in the weeks past have queued patiently at the door, waiting for this very moment. Now they know I’m sad they’ll keep knocking until I let them in.

Now I’m not just a little bit low or sad, I’m lazy too. That’s why the housework always needs doing, because I don’t work hard enough. That’s why there’s always office work to do, because I’m not organised enough. That’s why I don’t know where anything is, because I don’t deal with things immediately. That’s why I injured myself running, because I’m over weight. That’s why my little man won’t sleep through the night, because he’s bored during the day. Understimulated. Underfed. Not shown enough positive attention. Not nurtured enough. Not valued enough. You name it I’m sure I’ve felt like that type of parent.

I know it’s all self torture. So tomorrow I’ll wake up better, I’ll do more, try harder, smile more, maybe laugh a little, clean the oven, scrub in those corners, dust the cobwebs, hold my head high and put those demons back in chains where they belong.